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The Voices of Him
The journal entries I am about to show you have been given to me in my best friend's will, and his lawyer asked me not to show it to anyone, but this request was unreasonable and dangerous, and I could not keep a secret this big. The friend in this story is not me, but someone I have never seen in my entire life. Bear in mind the first two days are not important to the incident, but that is when he started his journal. Please read these and help me figure out why this might have happened. January 5th, 2012 I have decided to keep a journal to keep my brain cells committing suicide from the grindingly boring day to day office job I currently have. Work was unbearably boring today. I was assigned what I was sure was a 1 metre high pile of paperwork, so that kept me occupied into the dark hours of the night. It was truly the last straw for me, so I decided to walk into work tomorrow and hand in my resignation papers. God knows how my boss will react, he can be very unpredictable. He may get angry, he may beg me to stay, but it doesn't matter either way, I've made up my mind. January 6th, 2012 I did it. I finally quit my dead-end job. The one thing dragging me down into the cesspool of depression was finally lifted from my shoulders. I feel like I could do anything now, so I'm going to. Tomorrow I am going on an expedition with my friend to Peru, and I hope it brings as much excitement to me as the feeling of freedom after quitting my job did. January 7th, 2012 I had a very interesting dream last night. I dreamt I was sitting atop he Empire State Building in New York City, looking across the skyline, searching for... something. I have a few ideas what this dream could mean, but the most logical one was that I was feeling free, but searching for something to fill the hole that was once my job. I am currently on a plane to Peru, sitting next to my friend, who is checking up on the equipment we needed for this trip. As an archeologist, he carries the typical equipment required for a generic expedition. picks, shovels, flashlights, etc. I was actually surprised he got all of his tools through customs, considering the sharp nature of the picks and shovels, but I suppose having a job like his would excuse him from that kind of stuff. January 8th, 2012 I had the same dream again tonight. Sitting on top of the Empire State Building, searching. I am now quite confident it has something to do with quitting my job. The hotel we are staying in is quite comfortable, albeit slightly dusty. I could tell no one had been to this place in a long time. I guess the manager didn't bother cleaning due to lack of customers. The manager seems nice enough. He was little bit gruff though. When we asked for a room for the night, he grunted, smiled at us, and led us to this room, room 7, if I remember correctly. Tomorrow we are setting out to find a ruin that was forgotten for many years, until a recent dig revealed it to the public. My friend had somehow managed to get a license to dig there, I asked him how he managed to get such an exclusive license, but he wasn't comfortable with talking about it, so I dropped the subject. It's not like it mattered anyway. January 9th, 2012 What my friend had neglected to tell me was the three day hike that was required to get to the ruins, which was quite a shock to the system, as I am not particularly fit. We had been hiking all day, and we finally stopped when it became too dark to continue. Dinner wasn't that great, but I didn't expect a feast, we are in a jungle, after all. I didn't have the dream again tonight, which I thought was a little weird. January 9th, 2:00am, 2012 I shouldn't forget about this dream, so I decided to right about it. Just now, I woke up from a most unnerving nightmare. It was like the other two I had the other night, with a slight, but very uncomfortable difference. I was sitting atop the Empire State Building, searching across the skyline, until I saw a slight change in colour of the sunlight. I looked closer, to find that the change in colour were two white dots, almost like eyes, getting slightly bigger as I focus more on them. They slowly got bigger and bigger, until I decided to look away, afraid of what might happen if they got too big. It was at this point I heard a voice, barely audible, barely a whisper, but as clear as the night sky. "He watches." I heard it say. Terrified, I let out a scream, but nothing came out, and then I awoke. What I want to know is, what the hell just happened!? January 11th, 2012 I skipped a day writing in this journal solely because of how exhausting yesterday's hike was. My friend and I said nothing for the whole of yesterday, and we didn't talk today either. I think he just wanted to get there and finish the hike, but I was silent because I was thinking about the dream I had two days ago. I don't think I will tell my friend about it, I think he might worry and make too much of a big deal out of it. I am sure it was nothing. We arrived at the dig site late in the afternoon, after a precarious trek across slippery rocks and moss. We were both exhausted, and decided to take a quick nap. It is now around 6:00pm, and my friend is talking about having a look at the ruins in about an hour, but I am not entirely sure that's a good idea. It might be hard to see in the darkness. He said we have very high powered torches, but I am still not convinced. January 11th, 11:00pm, 2012 I feel the need to write a second entry tonight, as the events that transpired earlier were of a most disturbing nature. We were inside the ruins, with the torches my friend had brought shining on the strangely shaped pillars and walls. We were barely twenty metres into the ruins when my friend called out from ahead, saying he had found something. I followed his voice to find a massive cave opening. I was dumbfounded as to how I didn't notice this straight away, as the sheer size of the opening was colossal. My friend was very excited, and wanted to take a look inside, so he dashed in without a moment's thought. A little scared of being alone out here, I followed him. I found him about fifteen metres in, studying the wall closely. Walking up to him, I noticed what he was looking at. It was a cave painting of a tall spire, with a strange red rock burning at the top. At the bottom of the spire was a ring of gold, and the tower itself seemed to be made of a strange grey stone. At the very bottom of this painting were two words, aged and weathered. I was barely able to read them, but eventually, I managed to make out this sentence: "HIS PRISON" My friend was so engrossed in the sheer detail of this primitive painting, that he did not notice the words right at the bottom. I tried to point them out to him, but he looked at me and said that he was concentrating on this painting, and to tell him later. I couldn't get another word out of him after that so I sat down and waited for him to finish. When he was done, he saw that I was getting bored with his inactivity, so he told me to go back to the campsite and get dinner ready. I was reluctant to leave, but it was clear he wanted to explore the rest of the cave, so I left him to look around, and started heading back to the campsite. As I exited the cave, I felt a light breeze coming from behind me. I turned around, and saw nothing but the darkness in the cave. A little disturbed now, I started walking faster towards our campsite. I was ten metres away from the cave mouth when I heard something that I had heard not long ago in a dream, carried in the breeze still coming from the cave mouth: "He watches." Very frightened, I started running back to the campsite, only to hear as I was running: "He follows." Scared out of my wits, I reached the campsite and ran into my tent, zipping up the seal as I entered. I have not dared venture out for an hour now. I am too afraid of what might be outside. I had forgotten about my friend until now, and I am extremely worried something might have happened to him. I cannot muster up the courage to go out now, though. Tomorrow, I will try to go back to the cave and find him. I am going to try to sleep now, and maybe I will wake up. This will be some kind of dream. Not likely, but one can hope, huh? January 12th, 7:00am, 2012 I am almost prepared to go into the cave and see if my friend is alright, and I am writing this entry in case I do not come back. To my family, in case you ever read this, remember I will always care for you and to my other friend back in America, keep this journal, and never show it to anyone. That is, if you ever see this. Farewell. January 12th, 9:00pm, 2012 I went into the cave, and near the cave drawing, I found my friend's pack on the floor, with a hastily drawn picture next to it. The picture was of a series of lines, kind of like a maze, with a single, long arrow, going through one of the gaps. It wasn't until I decided to walk on and came to a fork in the cave that I realized it was a map. I followed where the arrow went until I came to a strange red light. The light showed the way to a massive dome-like area with a colossal spire in the middle. To my horror, I realized it was the same spire in the painting at the entrance to the cave. The light I saw was right at the top of the tower, seemingly coming from a massive red rock. The gold ring was also at the bottom, geometrically perfect in every aspect, except for a slight fault. I walked closer, and saw that the fault in the circle was actually a gap. It looked like someone had taken a chunk out of it. I backed away, sensing I should not be here, and stepped in something slippery. I looked down, and found I was standing in a large pool of blood and gore. I let out a scream that resonated terror, and started running back to the dome entrance. on my way. I tripped on something solid, and saw that it was a large gold brick with a torch next to it. I picked up the gold brick, and the moment I did, I heard the worst possible sentence I could hear right now: "He escapes his prison." I looked up from the gold brick, and saw a figure barely a metre away from me. He would've looked human if it wasn't for the glowing white eyes, and the lack of a mouth. These were the only two things I noticed before bolting away from it and running back through the labyrinth. I don't know how I did it, but I managed to get back to my campsite and bolt into my tent. I am now hiding from that thing. I can hear it outside, slowly walking around my site. Every now and then, I would hear the words; "he follows" or "he watches", but he has not found me yet. If I wait long enough he might give u- *The rest of the pages are covered in dried blood* Category:Diary/Journal